


The Past is Past

by dangerousdaydream



Series: Johnstrade Challenge [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Date, M/M, Moving On, One-Shot, inspired by a song, may possibly be part of a series one day, shy!Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:24:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangerousdaydream/pseuds/dangerousdaydream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John could hardly believe it when he was walking from a particularly gruesome crime scene on a very chilly evening and a quiet, hesitant voice asked him to lunch. He blinked, almost believing he hadn't heard anything at all, when he looked up towards where the voice had come from and found himself startled when he realized it was the Detective Inspector himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Past is Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So, this is the first time I have ever shared my fic with the world, and this one in particular is odd because I wrote it in, like, two hours after being inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Begin Again". I have a mini-challenge with myself going on to see if I can write something for each song off of her latest album, and the second one I've written (which is really sad and will probably be posted sometime later) is inspired by one as well. Johnstrade is one of my OTPs, definitely; I just love them together. But anyway, here's my very first contribution to the fandom! I hope you enjoy it!

John could hardly believe it when he was walking from a particularly gruesome crime scene on a very chilly evening and a quiet, hesitant voice asked him to lunch. He blinked, almost believing he hadn't heard anything at all, when he looked up towards where the voice had come from and found himself startled when he realized it was the Detective Inspector himself. The man appeared almost nervous, hands stuffed in his pockets and a shy smile on his face. John didn't know what to say, really, because there were so many things that confused him about this situation. How did he know he was...? Or, well, not that. It was public knowledge at this point that he and Sherlock had been together for quite some time before things went bad. Very bad. /So/ bad, in fact, that John had hardly looked at anyone else in the eight months since they broke up.

Okay, that's not entirely true. But still, he hadn't been with anyone, nor had he /dated/ in that time. So why was Greg interested in him? There, that was more the thing that confused him. It was obvious from that look in his eye, the almost hopeful sparkle that made those brown pools seem much warmer than usual, that there was definitely intrigue there, perhaps even a hint of lust behind that gentle smile. He wanted John and that was baffling to the army doctor, because why on earth would he...?

John smiled back after a moment of quiet meditation and he nodded. "Yeah, okay," he found himself saying, resulting in one of those eye-crinkling grins from the older man that for some reason made John feel just a little bit better.

"Good! Good, okay, um. Meet me at the cafe near the Yard, then? Around eleven?"

John nodded again. "I'll see you then."

As the shorter man walked away, he caught a glimpse of Sherlock scowling after them and he felt his heart ache. He almost wanted to go over and defend himself, say it was nothing, just lunch. That he was still irrevocably Sherlock's and no one, /no one/ could ever take his place. But, no. No, that was the past. He shook his head sadly and walked the twenty minutes to his new flat, choosing to avoid riding in a cab. He needed that time to think.

The next morning, John stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and frowned at the man staring back at him. He looked absolutely miserable, evident by the lines in his face, the obvious lack of a gleam or sparkle in his brown eyes, the way he carelessly ran his fingers through his hair. He just couldn't be bothered to care all that much about his appearance.

But this was Greg. There was potential for a new start. John sighed, then put a little bit more effort into his hair than normal. He wore one of his favorite jumpers -- a navy blue one that had been a birthday gift from his sister, one that Sherlock very bluntly said he abhorred. Sod it. A white long sleeved shirt poked out from underneath it, the collar up and over the sweater, making him look very nice indeed. He smiled at his reflection for the first time in nearly ten months and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked out and headed in the direction of the cafe.

Why was he doing this? John couldn't get Sherlock from his mind, but he knew that Greg deserved a chance. Even if John wasn't sure he even believed in love anymore after feeling the strongest he ever had for someone, only to watch it break and burn after nearly two years together. What had those years been for if he found it so easy to throw him away like that?

No, Greg was different. Wasn't he? Of course; he was always the one that others took advantage of, that was cheated on for no good reason. He was just like the doctor in that regard.

When John made it to the cafe, he opened the door expecting to have to wait for Greg to show because he was early (another thing Sherlock couldn't stand about him), but he was surprised to find the policeman already there. Greg stood and waved, smiling brightly as always. John couldn't help the way his own lips curled up in response, nor the warm feeling that settled in his chest. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

They talked about anything and everything. Greg started, of course, going on about Donovan and Anderson and why on earth were they sneaking around when everyone obviously knew they were shagging. Then he took a sip of his coffee and looked curiously at John, steepling his fingers before his lips in a way that reminded John of Sherlock, and no, stop that.

"What's your sister like?" he asked. "Her name's Harry, right?"

John blinked. No one ever asked him about his family. "Yeah. She's... She's something." He shook his head and let out a long, heavy sigh. That woman. "I'm not sure you really want to know all that."

Greg smiled as he leaned back in the chair, brow raised. "Try me."

The next hour or so was spent with John going off about his family, how his mother changed when she learned Harry was a lesbian, how their family fell apart when their father died, how that was when his sister really started drinking and for fuck's sake, how does she still have a girlfriend? Greg listened intently, asking questions where needed and genuinely appearing interested in him. In what he was saying. That was odd; Sherlock always drowned him out or told him to shut up. John paused suddenly and looked at Greg, his brow furrowing and his tongue running thoughtfully over his lips.

"What?" Greg said, tilting his head to the side. The policeman resembled a confused puppy this way and it was terribly endearing.

"Nothing," John said quietly, shaking his head. "I just... I'm surprised."

Greg smiled softly and John knew that he didn't have to explain why. "Come on. I have to get back soon, but maybe we can walk and talk?"

John smiled at him and nodded. "Alright."

Greg laughed as they stood, because now John was talking about how he had celebrated this past Christmas with a few bottles of wine and bad Christmas films and how when George told Mary he would get her the moon John had been so emotional that he sat there crying for ten minutes. Boy, was he a sight over the holidays.

"So that's why you wouldn't come to the Christmas party," Greg said, still chuckling as they turned onto the street behind the Scotland Yard. "Makes sense."

"I don't usually cry," John explained, shaking his head. "But I just couldn't stop." He thought to say that part of the reason was because of Sherlock, but he found he didn't want to. Greg didn't ask about him, didn't seem like he was all that interested in their past, and that was such a relief to John.

They stopped walking in front of the building and Greg turned to John, a warm smile on his face as he stuffed his hands in his pockets again. "I had a good time," he said, and John could tell by that look in his eye that he meant it. "We should do it again sometime, yeah?"

John found himself smiling back. "Yeah. Yeah, I had fun too." And he had. "Maybe next time we could do dinner? Maybe walk around a bit more?"

Greg couldn't hide his excitement at the thought. "That would be great." He stepped closer and hesitated, then pressed a quick kiss to John's cheek and stepped back. A rosy color mixed in with his tan skin and he smiled even wider. "I'll text you later."

"Okay."

John watched Greg disappear inside and he raised a hand to brush his fingers against the spot where Greg's lips had been moments ago. He was still warm from it, his smile positively radiant. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he could fall in love again.

He turned from the building and started to walk home, his head held high for the first time in months. Sherlock was already fading from his mind, as was the pain associated with those memories. He realized just how many times he had smiled and laughed genuinely, how many times Sherlock wasn't even a thought in those short hours, and he felt his heart swell. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to his friend, this wonderful man who would never truly know what he did for him.

Thank you. JW


End file.
